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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24102487">(not) a matter of decorum</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/zarahjoyce/pseuds/zarahjoyce'>zarahjoyce</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>only a matter of [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Post-Series, hurt and comfort? YES, idek</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-03 00:02:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>379</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24102487</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/zarahjoyce/pseuds/zarahjoyce</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The Maester has informed him that Sansa has only <i>just</i> drifted off to a fitful sleep when he'd arrived, and has counseled against seeing her for the moment - but Jon is overcome with the need to be with her that, against these wise words, he still deposits himself beside her bed and tells the other:</p><p>"You may rest. I'll look after her tonight."</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jon Snow/Sansa Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>only a matter of [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1740979</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>180</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Jon x Sansa Drabble</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>(not) a matter of decorum</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Entry to the Jonsa DrabbleFest for May 2020 Day 1: Linger.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It has been days since the Queen has fallen ill.<br/>
<br/>
And <em>no one</em> from Winterfell has told <em>Jon</em>about it. <br/>
<br/>
Had it not been for Tormund who'd informed him soon as he'd heard it from some random stranger trading with some of the Free Folk, Jon wouldn't have known anything about her illness. He would have gone on thinking of Sansa as <em>thriving </em>in her seat, not sweat-soaked and weak on her bed as she is now.<br/>
<br/>
He takes a cloth and wipes the side of her forehead with it, careful, so very careful not to jostle her. The Maester has informed him that Sansa has only <em>just </em>drifted off to a fitful sleep when he'd arrived, and has counseled against seeing her for the moment, but Jon is overcome with the need to be with her that, against these wise words, he still deposits himself beside her bed and tells the other, "You may rest. I'll look after her tonight."<br/>
<br/>
And Jon proceeds to do just <em>that.</em><br/>
<br/>
Hours later, Sansa begins to shiver despite the layers of blankets encasing her - and Jon takes off his fur cloak and drapes it over her in an effort to provide her comfort. When <em>that </em>doesn't seem to help, he then decides to climb on her bed and pull her flush against him - all sorts of propriety be damned.</p><p><em>Everything</em> be damned - for her sake.</p><p>"Shh," he murmurs to the back of her neck, his hands rubbing against her skin - trying to ignite warmth to her flesh. "Shh. It's all right. I'm here, Sansa."<br/>
<br/>
"--Jon?" she croaks.  <br/>
<br/>
He exhales slowly, resisting the urge to kiss the exposed shoulder right next to his mouth. "I'm here."<br/>
<br/>
"Have you-- you've come home? To--"<br/>
<br/>
<em>"Sleep,</em> Sansa. We'll talk when you're better."<br/>
<br/>
In the silence of her bedroom, he can hear her breathe deeply, then sigh - before she moves, with effort, until she's facing him.<br/>
<br/>
"You'll be here... in the morning, won't you?" she asks softly, hands cupping his face, and he's struck with the thought that, perhaps, she isn't seeing him <em>right now</em>. "I'm... I'm <em>so tired</em> of waking up alone." <br/>
<br/>
"Yes." Despite his earlier resolve, he turns his face to kiss her palm. "Yes. I'll be here."<br/>
<br/>
And, true to his word--<br/>
<br/>
--he <em>was.</em></p>
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